The Unavoidable
by house-elf7
Summary: Gregory Dursley enjoys video games, eating snacks and watching television. Could the son of Dudley Dursley really be magical?
1. The Phone Call

**CHAPTER 1- The Phone Call**  
><strong><br>Disclaimer: I own nothing but Katrina, Greg, the postman and the plot. : ) Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
><strong>

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><p>It was a chilly winter morning towards the end of December and Ginny Potter was in the kitchen cooking breakfast for her family. She heard a commotion by the front door and walked out to see a man standing on the other side of the glass.<p>

"May I help you?" she asked politely after opening the door. She shivered when a strong gust of wind blew into the house.

"Um, you have mail, ma'am," replied the postman. "I'm sorry to bother you, but you don't seem to have a letter box."

"Oh," replied Ginny, taking the letter off him. She made a mental note to make Harry buy a letter box later to prevent the muggles getting suspicious. "Thank you very much."

She smiled at the postman and closed the door before sitting on a kitchen chair and opening the envelope addressed to Mr and Mrs Potter. Inside was a Christmas card with the words 'Seasons Greetings from the Dursleys' printed on the front. She thought the name sounded familiar but couldn't think who it was. She opened the card and resumed reading.

_Dear Harry and family,_

_May Peace be your gift at Christmas and your blessing all year through._

_Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year_  
><em>Katrina, Dudley and Gregory <em>

Ginny immediately recognised Dudley Dursley as Harry's cousin, the one who made his childhood a living hell. She hadn't seen him since her wedding day but seemed to recall he seemed pleasant enough. Harry said he had definitely matured and got over their differences. She remembered his wife, Katrina, and thinking that she was pretty and the fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty. Nevertheless Ginny thought it was silly that the cousins hadn't spoken face to face in over ten years and only communicated through Christmas cards. Family is the most important thing, after all.

She brought this to his attention once he came down to breakfast ten minutes later. "We got a letter from your cousin earlier," she said. "He wishes us peace through the year, or something."

"Typical Dudley, sending our Christmas card three days late," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"You should invite them over," said Ginny suddenly, causing Harry to look up in alarm. "We haven't seen them in years and little Greg is bound to be big now. He's Al's age, isn't he?"

"A year younger, I think," said Harry. "But, er, why do you want them over now? You've never mentioned them before."

"Family is the most important thing in the world," she said, voicing her earlier thoughts. "The kids should get to know their cousin. They see their Weasley relatives all the time but never their paternal ones."

Harry couldn't argue with that one. "But, Ginny, it's iDudley/i we're talking about," he moaned.

"Harry, I want you to stop acting like a child and invite them round," said Ginny sternly, getting up and clearing her plate.

Harry did as he was told, albeit grudgingly, and found the phone book. He dug into a cupboard and found the mobile phone that was seldom used. He had to go outside to use it as there was too much magic inside the house which interrupted with the signal.

Once he found the Dursleys' number he tapped it in and waited for them to pick up. After seven rings a woman's voice answered, "Hello, Katrina Dursley here."

"Hi, Katrina, it's Harry, Harry Potter," he said a little nervously.

"Oh, hello, Harry! How lovely to hear from you. How's the family?"

"Great, thanks, Katrina. How's Dudley and Greg?"

"Both are splendid. Gregory's just come back from a chess tournament and he won first prize!"

"Oh, er, tell him congratulations. Anyway, I was wondering whether you lot would like to come over for tea one of these days? We haven't seen one another in so many years and it'd be nice to catch up."

"That would be fabulous!" replied Katrina. "Is tomorrow noon okay?"

Harry was taken aback. He hadn't expected her to accept, let alone set a date and time so soon.

"Er, that'd be great," he said. "See you then, Katrina."

"Harry?" asked Katrina suddenly sounding timid.

"Yes?"

"There's something strange going on with Gregory...," she said in a whisper. Harry had to strain his ears to hear. "He blew up a classroom last month. And the other day I put a bowl of pudding on top of a very high cupboard out of his reach, but I came back less than a minute later to see it in his hands, wolfing it down! I've tried talking about it with Dudley, but he won't hear it. Just keeps changing the subject. I apologize for offloading all of this onto you, but I don't know what to do!"

Harry was speechless. All these incidents were similar to what was going on around Al at the moment. But Dudley's son? Magical? Harry was shocked. Any more surprises today and he would surely have a heart attack.

"You never know, those things might have been a coincidence, although I can't really explain blowing up the classroom… however, feel free to contact me again if something else happens. Odd things keep happening around Al, too."

"Really?" said Katrina. "Oh, well, it's probably just an age thing then. Thanks, Harry. Goodbye!"

Harry ended the call and walked back inside his house, feeling confounded.

"How did it go?" asked Ginny eagerly.

"They're coming tomorrow at noon," he replied, dazedly.

"Great!" beamed Ginny, happily setting to work on the laundry.

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. HideandSeek

**Chapter 2- Hide-and-Seek**

"Mum, do they have to visit?" groaned 12-year-old James as the Potters stood in the entrance hall awaiting the Dursleys' arrival at noon. "Uncle Dudley was horrible to Dad when they were younger, wasn't he, Dad?" Harry had recounted the story of his childhood several times to his children over the years.

Harry replied, "Yes, but we were children then. He's nicer now."

"Besides, you need to meet Greg," added Ginny, straightening out Al's shirt and patting down a stray red hair of Lily's.

"But he might be mean like his father," said Al.

"You promised me you'd take me to play with Hugo today!" cried Lily.

"Listen, if you all stop complaining and be nice to Greg, we'll take you round to see Rose and Hugo tomorrow. How's that sound?" said Harry, exasperated.

The siblings looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay," they said in unison.

A few minutes later a car could be heard on the gravel of the Potters' drive. Ginny quickly ran her fingers through her hair and opened the door wide.

"Hello Katrina, Dudley! So glad you could make it," said Ginny, kissing Mrs Dursley's cheek and grinning at Dudley and Greg.

Gregory was a plump boy who had his large nose constantly stuck up in the air. Harry was reminded very much of Dudley when he was his age. Dudley had put on even more weight since the last time he saw him. Mrs Dursley, however, was a pretty blonde woman who Harry couldn't help but think was well out of Dudley's league.

"Thank you for inviting us," replied Katrina, mimicking Ginny's smile.

Harry gave Dudley an awkward hand shake and said it was good to see him again. The children just stared at each other uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say. Greg looked around the entrance hall and scrunched his nose as if he had smelt something bad. It was obviously not decorated to his taste.

"How was your Christmas?" asked Ginny.

"Oh my, it was absolutely delightful, wasn't it Greggikins?" gushed Mrs Dursley.

"Yeah, I got my largest haul of presents yet," he replied.

"How about we go talk in the lounge while the children play upstairs in James' room?" said Ginny, guiding the adults away from the front door.

"Why my room?" moaned James. "Al's is cleaner."

"Is not!" said Al.

"James," said Ginny firmly, giving him a do-as-you-are-told-or-no-pocket-money-for-a-week look.

James sighed and led his siblings plus Greg up to his room.

At first glance all Greg saw were hundreds of t-shirts and socks strewn all over the floor.

"What a mess!" he declared.

But then he looked properly. Greg looked around the red room in wonder. The bedcover had a picture of someone sitting on a broomstick in the middle of the air, posters on the walls with the words 'Chudley Canons' printed on had photographs that _moved _(Greg blinked rapidly to check he wasn't imagining it) and bright banners adorning the walls flashed red and gold.

"I… eh… it… the… eh?" he stuttered.

"Uh, you alright, Greg?" asked James uncomfortably.

"Th- the pictures! They're moving!" Greg squealed, pointing to the walls.

"Muggles are not accustomed to moving pictures!" Al whispered to James urgently. They had forgotten that Greg was not magical.

"What's a Muggle?" asked Greg. He thought it sounded like an insult, but couldn't be sure.

"Muggles are… people," said James, taking his posters off the wall and hastily stuffing them in a box under his bed. Lily gathered the banners and hid them in a drawer. "And the posters don't really move. It's just an illusion." Greg eyed him suspiciously.

"So… where are your video games?" asked Greg, pulling some gum out of his pocket and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Our what games?"

"Video games," Greg said slowly as if they were stupid. "You know, those boxes that kids play on!"

The Potters looked at each other in confusion.

"We don't have them," said James. "We have other games though… how about chess?"

Greg considered it. "I am very skilled at chess, but I play it _so_often. I don't feel like it today."

"Okay, well we also have Exploding Snap, Gobstones and Quidditch," suggested Al.

"They're funny sounding games. I've never heard of them."

Greg walked around the room and peered in every nook and cranny. "Where's the television?"

"Television?" repeated James.

"Don't tell me you don't know what a television is."

James shrugged.

Greg raised his thick eyebrows. "Your parents mustn't like you very much. _My_father bought me a fifty inch television for my bedroom, and the one in the living room is only fourty. And my mother buys me the newest video games before they even get into the shops."

"Our parents _do_love us! You're just a spoilt little brat!" cried Lily indignantly.

"Just ignore him, Lily, he's pompous," Al whispered.

"What's that stupid little fluff ball on your shoulder, anyway?" said Greg, glaring at Lily. "I thought it was just a silly toy but it keeps moving around."

"She's not an it, she's a she! She's called Daisy, and she's my Pygmy Puff."

"Hmm. I suppose it does look a bit like a pig."

Lily had tears in her eyes.

"Greg, will you stop picking on my sister?" said James, exasperated.

"But I'm _bored_!" he moaned, flopping down onto a chair and pulling more gum out of his pocket. He suddenly looked up and smirked. "How about we play a game of hide-and-seek?"

"Fine," said Al wearily, "but I'm hiding."

"Me too," said Greg.

"Me three!" said Lily.

James sighed. "Fine, I'm it. Go hide, but don't go out of the house." He covered his eyes with his hands. "One… two… three…"

They quickly ran out of the room.

"…ten! Ready or not, here I come," he called.

James soon found Lily hiding behind a bookshelf in the hallway, and Al under the chest of drawers in their father's study. But Greg was harder to find.

After looking in every room, they decided to look downstairs.

"Has Greg been in here?" James asked the adults in the living room.

"No, why?" asked Ginny suspiciously.

"You've lost my baby?" gasped Katrina clutching her heart.

"No, he's fine. We're playing hide-and-seek," he explained before searching the kitchen.

"Can you hear that?" whispered Lily suddenly.

"What?"

"That shuffling sound… it's coming from under the stairs!" she cried.

James flung open the door to reveal Greg squashed in the little cupboard under the stairs. He was far too large to fit comfortably in the little room.

"Found you," said James.

"It doesn't count until you tag me!" he yelled, coming out of the cupboard and sprinting as fast as his stout legs would allow him out of the back door into the garden.

"Greg, wait! I told you not to go out of the house! It's snowing, for Merlin's sake!"

Greg didn't listen and carried on running. James rolled his eyes and he and his siblings quickly pulled on their boots and chased after him.

"You'll never catch me!" he chortled as he vanished behind a rosebush.

Albus was the fastest of his siblings and managed to catch up to his cousin first. Greg briefly looked behind him and his eyes widened in surprise; he didn't expect them to run so fast. Al's hand was close enough to grab his shoulder. But Greg had never lost a game of hide-and-seek before! Normally the seeker would give up after a while and Greg would come out of his hiding place and boast how he was the best hider in the world. He would _not _lose to the Potters…

"Help! Help me!"

"Where did he go?" asked Al. He looked around wildly. Just as soon as he caught up with Greg, he disappeared…

"Up there!" Lily shrieked, pointing to the nearest tree.

Greg was perched on one of the highest branches clutching on to the tree trunk for dear life.

"James!" cried Lily, "Do something!"

"I can't!" he protested. "I've only been at Hogwarts for a year; I don't know the right spell!"

"But James, he's gonna fall!"

Greg was whimpering and looked like he might vomit any second. Al ran back into the house, skidding on the snow, and flung open the back door.

"So how's work, Dudley?" asked Harry, taking a sip from his mug.

"Yeah, it's good. A lot of work, mind. Caught a criminal driving a stolen van yesterday, it was a close call –"

"Mum! Dad! Greg's stuck in a tree!" yelled Al, dragging them off their seats and into the garden with Mrs Dursley following not too far behind. Dudley, however, could not move very fast so he was last to get there.

Dudley and Katrina glanced at each other, thunderstruck.

"What is my son doing up in a tree?" they cried in unison.

"Mummy, help me!" squealed Greg as a bird landed near his head.

"Greggy, darling, get down!" she shouted with tears in her eyes.

"The Potters did this! I don't know how, but they did!" he yelled.

"We didn't, mum, we were chasing him and he suddenly appeared in the tree," said Lily earnestly.

"I think it would be too dangerous using magic to get him down," Ginny whispered to Harry. He agreed.

"Greg, you're going to have to lower yourself onto the branch below, and get yourself down that way. Can you do that?" called Harry.

"O- okay, I'll try, but it's so slippery!" he exclaimed.

"My poor baby," Katrina sobbed on Dudley's shoulder.

Slowly but surely, Greg lowered himself until he was on the bottom branch, breaking many of them under his weight. Dudley opened his arms wide to catch Greg when he jumped, and they both ended up in a tangled heap in the snow. Dudley let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

"Come on, let's get inside and get warm," said Harry, leading them back towards the house.

Once everyone was warm and dry and sipping on hot chocolate, Harry faced the Dursleys solemnly.

"Dudley, Katrina… I think your son might be magical."

_**AN: How will the Dursleys react to Harry's statement? Find out in the next chapter. ;D Thanks to everyone who's left a review/favourited/story alerted so far!**_


	3. The Letter

**Chapter 3- The Letter **

There was a short pause before Mr and Mrs Dursley burst out laughing. Dudley had a spit-take.

"Good one, Harry," said Dudley through his chuckles, wiping hot chocolate off his chin.

"I'm magical? That's so cool! I always knew I was better than everyone else!" exclaimed Greg, beaming up at Harry.

"It's very likely," added Ginny. "Children don't just appear on treetops. Magic is the only explanation."

"But that's impossible!" gasped Katrina. "I was born a… a… Squib! Dudley is a Muggle… Gregory simply cannot be a wizard!"

"It's been known to happen, Katrina," said Harry warily.

"Yeah, like Lord Voldemort!" said James cheerfully. "We learnt in History of Magic that his parents were a Muggle and a Squib –"

"Wait a second," interrupted Ginny, astonished. "You actually pay attention to Professor Binns, James?"

"Hey!" complained James. "You would've thought my own mother would have more faith in me. I only listen when he goes on about the Dark Arts, anyway. I find that old Voldemort bloke quite fascinating."

Harry looked quite alarmed. "James…"

James winked cheekily in reply.

"I can do magic, _and _I'm like a Lord? Wow. This day keeps getting better and better," grinned Greg.

"You are no such thing, Greg. Don't listen to them. We're going home," declared Dudley. He grabbed the wrists of his wife and son and stormed out of the Potter residence. Katrina turned back around just before they left and chirped, "It's been so lovely to see you all! Goodbye!"

"Don't leave! Please, come back!" cried Ginny, but it was no good. The front door was slammed in her face and the Dursleys hastily got into their little red car and drove away.

Ginny flung open the front door and shouted after them, "You can't ignore his powers forever!"

Harry put an arm around his wife as they watched the vehicle disappear into the distance.

James walked up to his parents and rested his elbow on his father's shoulder. "Poor kid doesn't know what he's got himself into."

"James!" they cried in unison, pushing their son back into the house.

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><p>"Any luck?" asked Ginny as she joined Harry on the frosty veranda. She had just been reading <em>The Tales of Beedle the Bard<em>to Lily until she fell asleep.

"Not yet. They won't pick up," Harry replied with a sigh.

"Just leave them a voice message then, it's the best we can do."

Harry dialled the number for the seventh time that evening and was surprised to find it was picked up on the third ring.

"Hello, Gregory Dursley speaking. How may I help you?"

"Uh, hi Greg," said Harry. "Convinced your parents to let you stay up, have you?"

"No. I'm meant to be in bed right now, but the constant phone ringing is giving me a headache."

"I'm sorry about that. Could you pass me over to your dad? There's something we need to discuss."

"Okay then. By the way, Harry, did you mean it when you said I was magical? Mum and Dad say you were joking but I'm not sure if I believe them –"

"Gregory! I thought I told you not to answer the phone!" said Dudley's voice.

"I wouldn't have if you had let me have the last chocolate donut at dinner."

"Oh, you cheeky little tyke. Pass the phone, would you?"

Harry could hear a muffled noise from the other end and someone clearing their throat.

"Hello, Dudley here. How can I help?"

"Hi Dudley, it's Harry. I want to talk about Greg."

"What about him?"

Harry decided to cut right to the chase.

"As I tried to explain earlier, it is very possible that he is a wizard."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Greg, get back to bed, will you?"

"You saw him up in that tree today, Dudley, and Katrina's told me all about how he blew up a classroom and reached a pudding that was high out of his reach. There's no mistaking it; it's magic."

"Nonsense! Kids climb trees all the time. My Greggers just happens to be particularly athletic, that's all. He's going to live a completely safe, ordinary life and go to Smeltings like my father and I did and be the top of his class and –"

"Dudley, please listen to me! This is unavoidable. His magic is permanent. You should be proud of your son, not trying to pretend it isn't there. It won't happen for a while yet, but one day Greg _will _get a letter accepting him into Hogwarts, and you _need_to be prepared for it. If you don't let him go to Hogwarts he won't have any control over his powers and not only would that be potentially dangerous to himself, but to other people as well. Please don't do what your parents did to me. Greg doesn't deserve that."

There was a long pause. Harry cleared his throat nervously as he was starting to think Dudley had just walked off, or perhaps he fainted of shock.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in. But please, don't hesitate to contact me if anything strange goes on around Greg again, or even if you need help when he gets his acceptance letter when he's eleven."

"Fine," Dudley muttered after a few seconds before abruptly ending the call.

Harry let out a long sigh and gazed up into the night sky. Despite several years of Astronomy at school, he had no idea what any of the stars were called.

"I hope everything goes well for Greg, in the end," said Ginny softly.

"Me too."

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><p><em>Two years later<em>

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Greggikins, happy birthday to you!" sang Katrina and Dudley out of tune.

Greg stretched his arms above his head before hopping out of bed, causing the floorboards to croak angrily, and leapt into his parents' arms, causing them all to tumble backwards onto the carpet.

"Happy birthday my darling!" wheezed Katrina. Her son was lying on top of her and squeezing the air out of her lungs. Unfortunately, Greg put on even more weight over the years due to the four meals a day supplied by his mother and his lack of exercise.

"You've got plenty of presents waiting for you downstairs! Why not let your mother breathe and go open them?" suggested Dudley.

"PRESENTS!" shrieked Gregory, and he thundered down the stairs at an astounding speed for someone his size.

In the living room sat his grandparents, Petunia and Vernon; however Greg was far more interested in the heap of presents waiting patiently on the carpet to acknowledge their presence.

"Fourty-six presents you've got there, my boy! I counted for you," said Vernon, grinning under his bushy grey beard at his only grandson.

"Fourty-six, eh? That's more than I ever got. You are a lucky little boy," chuckled Dudley.

Greg beamed at the pile of presents and was trying to decide where to start first, when a large parcel near the back caught his eye. The wrapping paper was flashing red and gold! It was like nothing he'd seen before. He tore it open to reveal…

"Marbles and a pack of cards? Boring!" he said, throwing them to the side. Ah well, the cool wrapping paper makes up for it, he thought.

"What's this?" wondered Katrina out loud. She picked up the note attached to the flashing wrapping paper and read aloud, "_Dear Greg, have a fantastic 11th birthday. You probably already have a normal Muggle set of marbles and pack of cards, but we've sent you a set of Gobstones and a pack of Exploding Snap. These are Wizarding Games you'll see are played often at Hogwarts and we thought you might enjoy playing them. Remember to contact us if you need any help with anything. Hope to see you soon! Love the Potters._"

Katrina bit her lip and turned to her husband with wide eyes.

"The Potters? I haven't seen them in years," said Greg. "So Hogwarts is real after all. I knew you were fibbing to me. Am I going to go there, Mum?"

"What's this? The Potters? You still keep in touch with them, Dudley?" barked Vernon, glaring at his son with an accusing glare.

"Ooh, did you hear that? The post has come!" squealed Katrina before Dudley could answer. She toddled out of the room and returned a few seconds letter with a bulk of envelopes in her hand.

"Plenty of birthday cards here for you to open, my darling."

"But presents are so much better, everyone knows that," he replied as he reluctantly took the pile from his mother.

"This one's from my friend, Bertie. He's only sent me £10, can you believe it! That won't even get me half a video game," huffed Greg. He threw the card onto his 'pile of rejection', along with the Gobstones and Exploding Snap.

The next letter was written in emerald ink with a red wax seal.

"This one's fancy," noted Greg. "_Mr G. Dursley, The Floor in the Living Room, 13 Sycamore Street, Little Whinging, Surrey._How did they know I was on the floor?"

Before he could open it, three hands reached out to grab the letter off him.

"Hey!" he yelled once his father had managed to get hold of it. "Give my letter back!"

His grandfather was red in the face, his grandmother was looking paler than usual and his father looked like he might be sick. His mother, however, simply looked confused.

"Katrina, could you join me in the kitchen for a second, my dear?" asked Dudley in a strained voice.

Vernon tried to follow them out, but Dudley said, "You stay here, Dad. This is our problem, not yours."

Vernon's eyes crinkled but he slowly sat back down.

"This letter is from Hogwarts, Tri. Harry got one just the same." Dudley paced around the kitchen, fanning his pasty face with the envelope.

"So… so they were right? Our Greggy is one of… them?" whispered Katrina with a hand over her heart.

"I think so. No, I know so. We've been avoiding it, Tri, but we can't." He stopped pacing and faced his wife. "Our Greg's a wizard."

"Does it really matter, though?" she said after a moment of silence to let it sink in. "Harry and Ginevra are splendid people, and they can do magic. My brother could do magic, before he died in that battle, and he was a wonderful fellow."

Suddenly Dudley felt excited for his son. Harry's words rang around his head, '_don't do what your parents did to me'_. "You're right. My cousin is a… great man. I would be proud if Greg turned out like him."

Katrina smiled broadly, the smile that Dudley had fallen in love with years ago.

"But their world isn't exactly safe, is it?" he added. "You said your brother died in that battle that caused my family to move house… Greg could get killed." The smile slipped off Katrina's face at his words.

"That's why he has to go to that school to learn spells and all that to protect himself, doesn't he? Our Greg has about as much chance dying in their world as he does in ours."

The kitchen door was flung open. "You're not letting Greg go to that circus, are you?" demanded Vernon as he marched into the room.

"Dad, it's not a circus, it's a _school_…"

"Give me that letter!"

"Why?"

"Just give it to me!"

"No."

Vernon's face resembled a rather wrinkly beetroot.

"What did you say?"

"I said no. Greg is going to Hogwarts to learn spells and become a powerful, brave man just like Harry Potter." Dudley was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. He felt shaky on the inside.

"Do you hear yourself? No grandson of mine is going to that school for nutters to learn that hocus pocus rubbish!"

He snatched the letter out of Dudley's hands and darted into the living room before chucking the envelope into the fire.

"NO!" bellowed Greg. "I didn't even get to read it! Mum? Dad? What was it about?"

Dudley didn't even answer his son. He stormed over to his father and said in a quiet but sure voice, "Get out. Get out my house."

"Excuse me?"

"Duddikins, you don't mean that!" said Petunia, clutching onto Vernon's arms.

"I do mean it, mother. If you won't accept my son for who he is, you can get out."

"I don't know how it's possible," snarled Vernon, "but I blame Potter. He's brought nothing but trouble to our family. If you want your son to turn out like him, you're an idiot. Come on, Petunia, let's get out of here."

"At least stay for the cake!" cried Katrina, hastily placing a large chocolate cake onto the table and lighting the candles."

Vernon's nostrils flared, but he grudgingly sang happy birthday to Greg along with everyone else. Greg had a puzzled expression on his face.

"Make a wish, sweetie!"

Greg closed his eyes and blew out the candles in one breath. For the first time in eleven years he didn't wish for a new bike or a laptop. He simply wanted to see what was in that letter, more than anything else.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked into the fire, but the letter was burnt to a crisp. He was about to throw a tantrum when there was a banging noise coming from the window.

"It's an owl! No, it's a flock of owls!"

Greg opened the window and the owls swooped into the room, dropping dozens of letters onto the floor.

"Wheeeee!" Greg cried gleefully as he spun about trying to catch all the letters.

Vernon was hastily trying to stuff whatever he could catch into the fire while shooing the owls back out the window, but more kept coming in. He yelled out in frustration and lifted Greg off his feet up to the ceiling, shaking him.

"Let me down!" demanded Greg.

"Drop the letters, boy!" roared Vernon.

"You can't make me!" Greg's voice could hardly be heard over the flutter of wings and letters creating havoc in the small living room.

"Drop the letters, or… or I'll drop you!"

"Vernon!" shrieked Petunia.

"Put my son back down!" yelled Dudley.

"How dare you!" exclaimed Katrina.

However, Greg had managed to snatch a letter as it was falling and ripped open the envelope. "Dear Mr Dursley," he read out in a loud voice, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I'm a wizard! I'm going to Hogwarts! _Wahoo_!"

"Oh no you don't! I'm going to shake it out of you!" Vernon shook Greg up and down in mid-air.

Katrina jumped onto Vernon's back and covered his face with her spidery fingers while yelling, "LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO!"

Greg managed to wriggle out of Vernon's grasp and leapt into his father's waiting arms. "Don't worry, Greg," he whispered, "You'll be fine now."

Katrina opened another window to let the owls out easier.

"Get out," Dudley ordered, glaring at his father. "You've done enough here."

Vernon scowled at him. "

"I'm so sorry, Diddikins," Petunia whispered. She hugged her son and whispered in his ear, "I'm so proud of Gregory."

"Come on, Petunia." Vernon took Petunia's shaking hand in his and together they left the house.

Another yell of frustration was heard from outside, as Vernon's expensive silver car was covered in owl excrement.

"Am I going to Hogwarts, dad?" asked Greg in a timid voice. "Is Hogwarts really a circus for nutters like granddad says?"

"Not at all, son," said Dudley, bringing his son and wife in for an embrace. "Granddad doesn't know what he's talking about. Hogwarts is a place for brave, selfless, powerful people, and you're going to love it there." Dudley hoped what he was saying would be true.

"I really am a wizard," Greg muttered in amazement to himself. "Won't I need a wand?"

Dudley's heart swelled with pride. "Yes you will, there's a list of everything you need in this letter. Well, in all of these letters." He looked at the sea of envelopes and feathers on his living room carpet and laughed heartily. That was not going to be easy to clean.

"Where do I get one from?"

Dudley read through the letter and couldn't find a reference to any shops anywhere.

"I remember when I was little we went to this place called Diagon Alley to get all my brother's school supplies. But I don't have the faintest idea how to get there," said Katrina.

Dudley took a deep breath. "I think it's time we apologized to the Potters."

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><p><strong>AN**_**: Sorry I took so long to update! Please review **_**:-)**


	4. The Outing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters, settings, etc, nor do I own Doctor Who or his TARDIS.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Oh, come on now, Greggers, I told you to comb your hair ten minutes ago!" cried Katrina as she frantically flattened her son's blonde hair.<p>

"It's fine how it is," he mumbled huffily. "When we went round their house, the Potters looked like they'd just rolled out of bed. I don't see why I should make an effort."

"Because we are Dursleys, and we pride ourselves in looking presentable at all times. Now, go get your father- they'll be here any minute."

Mrs Dursley applied some lipstick while Greg grudgingly set off to find his father.

The Potters arrived some twenty minutes later in a large black car.

"I'm so sorry we're late," Ginny apologized as she entered the house, followed by her sons and Harry who was holding Lily's hand. "The kids demanded we stopped off at Wizburgers; you know how they can be if they're not fed a million times a day." She rolled her eyes.

"I know what you mean. Our Gregory eats like a horse. Growing boys need a healthy appetite, mind," replied Katrina with a pleasant smile. "And don't worry, we haven't been waiting long, have we?"

"Well actually, we –" Greg stopped short at the threatening look on his mother's face, "- we, er, haven't been waiting long at all."

The Potters and Dursleys shuffled into the dining room and sat around the oak table.

"So, on the phone you said you needed our help?" said Harry, smiling at the family opposite him.

"Yes. The thing is, it's Greg's birthday today, and he got an unexpected letter in the mail," began Dudley tentatively.

"Having a good day so far, Greg?" asked fourteen-year-old James, who had grown a considerable amount since they had last met.

"Yeah," Greg replied. There was a plate of biscuits in the middle of the table and his fingers were itching to grab one.

"He absolutely adores the presents you got him," added Katrina.

Greg bit his tongue to stop himself from saying, "_apart from the fact I have no clue what it is."_

"I'm glad. Those games never get old," said Harry.

"We're going a bit off topic here, guys," said James. "Back to the letter."

Dudley cleared his throat. "So, Greg got many letters today, but there was one in particular which caused a bit of surprise." He pulled a letter with a red wax seal out of his trouser pocket. "A letter accepting him into Hogwarts."

None of the Potters looked very surprised at all, only politely interested.

"We told you so," said Albus to break the silence. Ginny gave him a stern look.

"Well done, Greg! We knew you had it in you," Harry winked at him.

"Are you alright now with it all, Dudley? Katrina?" asked Ginny.

Dudley nodded. "We just have no idea how to get him all his school supplies, where to go, what to pay with and all that palaver. The letter doesn't give directions or anything like that, and Hogwarts isn't even mentioned anywhere online- we checked before we rang. It's as if it doesn't even exist."

"A Professor is meant to come and explain everything to muggleborns, although I suppose Greg is a half-blood, isn't he? The magical quill mustn't have detected Greg as someone who needed a Professor to clarify everything," supposed Ginny.

"All this blood status business is very confusing," Katrina said, rubbing her forehead.

"Well you've got us to help you now. We could go straight to Diagon Alley to get everything he needs if you like. We were planning to head there ourselves actually for Al and James' new school books," said Harry.

Dudley was about to agree when the doorbell rang. "Who's this?" he muttered.

He left the room and opened the front door where a grinning elderly couple were standing. The woman was holding a large rectangular parcel wrapped in a big blue bow.

"Bob, Ginger! It's been far too long," Dudley said in surprise as he let them in his house. "Katrina said you were at a, er, winged horse race or something."

"Well it's not every day your grandson turns eleven is it?" boomed his father-in-law, Mr Vega. He wandered into the dining room and was seemingly oblivious of the other guests as he gave Greg a good squeeze. "Merlin's beard, boy, you're getting porkier every time I see you."

"Granddad!" Greg squealed as he got up from his chair. "Nana! PRESENT!"

He eagerly took the heavy parcel out of her hands and tore it open.

"What is it?" he asked in confusion. Why was everyone getting him such strange presents this year? What happened to video games and chocolate?

"It's a toad!" exclaimed his grandmother.

"It's going to make such a mess," muttered Katrina, peering at it with an utterly disgusted expression on her face.

"But it's purple!" He took it out of its box and gave it a once-over.

"Indeed it is, Greg, dear. Purple toads are a huge hit with the younger generation nowadays, I'm told. I don't want you to miss out."

"That's not exactly true. My friend Frank has one and people tease him about it," said James.

They finally acknowledged the Potters.

"Oh my, you're Harry Potter. Such a pleasure to finally meet you!" Mr Vega beamed and shook Harry's hand jovially. "I'm Robert Vega. This is Ginger Vega."

"Nice to meet you, too," said Harry politely. "This is my wife, Ginny, and our children James, Albus and Lily."

"It's lovely to meet you," Ginny smiled as they shook hands.

"Wait, you were in _Legends of_ _The Dragon King_, weren't you? That's my favourite movie!" cried Albus excitedly.

"Yes, I was!" Mr Vega sat in the seat opposite Albus that Greg had vacated. "I played the poor soul that got set on fire by a Hungarian Horntail in the end. Peak of my acting career, that was," he said reminiscently.

"You were in a movie, Granddad? How come I was never told about this?" Greg said crossly.

"Ah, well you see, Greg," he scratched the back of his neck, "it's not a movie for, er, well…" He gave Katrina a meaningful look.

"But Dad… our Greg isn't a Muggle, it turns out," Katrina said quietly.

"I am completely sick of this word 'Muggle'. Will someone please explain to me what it means?" Greg grumbled.

"A Muggle is a person who lacks any sort of magical ability and was not born into the magical world," replied his Grandmother as if she were quoting a dictionary. "Wait a second… Kat, what did you say?"

"Greg's a wizard," she said as she put an arm around his shoulders.

"But that's just wonderful! Absolutely delightful!" cried Mrs Vega. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"We had an inkling you'd get the powers, Greg. I'm so proud." Mr Vega ruffled his grandson's hair.

"Now you can put Mr Snuggles to use and take him with you to Hogwarts! That's already one item crossed off your 'to get' list, eh?" said his grandmother happily.

"Mr Snuggles?" scoffed Greg. "My toad is called Henry. Mr Snuggles is just insulting."

"We were just planning to go buy his school stuff, actually," said Dudley. "You can come along if you'd like."

"Oh, yes please!" said Mrs Vega. She re-buttoned up her coat and held out her arms. "Who wants to side-along with me?"

"Actually, Mrs Vega, we thought it'd be easier to go by car."

"That's fine by me! Apparating at my age can't be good for my health anyway."

Harry offered to take everyone in his car. Greg had to do a double take as he stepped into the shiny black vehicle.

"It's bigger on the inside," he stated numbly, feeling like the Doctor's companions from his favourite TV show when they first saw the TARDIS. There were about double the amount of seats than a usual car with plenty of space to spare. He walked all around the car to make sure he wasn't imagining it.

"Yeah, it's been charmed so we can fit more stuff in here. Quite useful really," replied James. He laughed at Greg's bewildered expression. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Harry and Dudley sat in the front two seats, Katrina, Ginny and Lily sat in the second row, Mr and Mrs Vega sat in row behind them, and that left James, Al and Greg to sit in the very back.

"You never told us, Dudley; how did you and Harry meet?" called Mr Vega. Harry turned the radio down so their voices could be heard better.

"We're cousins."

"You what?"

"Yeah… we met, what, thirty-seven years ago?"

"I did," Harry agreed, thinking back to all those horrible years he spent in that cupboard under the stairs and the summers he was kept away from his friends.

"Oh boy. I bet you never thought your cousin would become the boy to save the entire Wizarding World, Dudley," Mr Vega chuckled.

"Not at all," Dudley said. "I wasn't exactly the most supportive cousin ever."

"Ah, well a bit of family rivalry is healthy, I say."

There was a lull of conversation as the car drove on. "Who wants to have a sing-song to pass the time?" offered Mrs Vega.

"No," everyone groaned, including Mr Vega.

"I'm dead bored," Greg declared. Maybe he should have brought that strange pack of cards the Potters had got him to pass the time.

"My poor baby," cooed Katrina. "I'm sure we'll be there soon."

Eventually they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

"I swear that building wasn't there a minute ago," muttered Dudley as they approached it. Harry tapped on the wall and let them through to Diagon Alley. The Dursleys looked apprehensive as they took in the narrow cobbled alleyway full of people wearing bright and somewhat extravagant clothing holding oddly shaped packages. Greg marvelled at the scene around him. It was like something he'd see on the television; he pinched himself to make sure it was real.

A shop with the most extravagant window display Greg had ever seen caught his eye. It was Honeydukes, in the spot where Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour once stood. He was almost drooling as he gazed at the assortments of chocolates and sweets.

"Mum, can we go into Honeydukes?" asked Lily eagerly, tugging on her mother's sleeve.

"I don't think so, love, we've got enough sweets at home to last us a year."

Lily pouted but knew she would be fighting a losing battle.

Greg, however, wasn't having no for an answer.

"Mum," he said, pulling her away from the shop window of Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. "I'm starving after that long car journey. We could grab something from in there." He pointed at Honeydukes.

"Good idea, darling, but –" Katrina looked at Harry, "- I only have normal money. I don't think they'll accept it here."

"Oh, we can go down to Gringotts, the bank," Harry replied. "They'll get your money sorted."

"But I'm absolutely _starving_," Greg whined. He put his hands over his belly and groaned for good measure. "I need food _now_."

"Me too," Lily added, giving her father her trademark puppy-dog eyes. Harry sighed as he unwillingly looked at the same pair of chocolate brown eyes that Ginny had.

"Are you sure these Wizarding sweets are safe?" said Dudley, fiddling with his gold watch. "I seem to recall eating one once that nearly suffocated me."

"Oh, that was a Ton-Tongue Toffee from a different shop… Honeydukes sweets _should_be completely safe," said Harry. Dudley nodded. Harry turned to Lily and Greg, "Come on then, I'll get you some sweets as long as you're good for the rest of the day." Greg was through the doorway before Harry finished his sentence. He thought he had seen all the sweets in the world during his eleven short years of life, but this shop proved him wrong. Who knew mice and slugs could taste so good?

Shopping in Diagon alley was different to being dragged around the town centre by his mother. He was actually finding it _fun_.

After exchanging pounds and pence for Galleons and Sickles, Madam Malkin's was their next stop while the Potters went to Flourish and Blotts. They agreed to meet again inside the Leaky Cauldron once they were done. Greg was getting measured round his belly by a squat little lady when a red-haired girl walked in with her mother. They seemed to be having an argument.

"But mum, I don't _need_new robes! My current ones fit just fine!" she moaned. "I hate getting robes fitted; the lady pinches and pokes me and I really don't like it!" she added in a whisper loud enough for Greg to hear.

"You should stop growing then, Rosie," her mother answered. "You can blame your father for the tall gene. I've always been relatively short compared to him."

The girl sighed dramatically and crossed her arms as she turned away from her mother. "Dad wouldn't make me buy new robes. I wish _he_was here," she muttered.

"Oh, don't be difficult." The woman put her finger and thumb on the bridge of her nose. "I'll get you a pygmy puff if you get your robes fitted without fuss."

Her face lit up. "Really? Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mum!" She hugged her mother.

"So I'm suddenly the nice parent rather than Ron for once," she muttered with a small smile.

"I won't be a minute, dears," the squat woman said to them before disappearing through a door. The girl stood on the platform next to Greg while her mother began a conversation with Katrina and the elder Vegas.

She turned to look at him. "I'm Rose Weasley. Who are you?"

"Gregory Dursley. Most people call me Greg, though."

"How gratifying to meet you. You have the same first name as an old Death Eater's son. Are you getting Hogwarts robes too?" she asked, unaware of his confusion at the term 'Death Eater'.

He nodded. It still felt weird to him knowing he was going to this school he never knew existed before now. He was a bit worried he'd never be able to remember all these strange terms and people would laugh at him.

"What year are you in?"

"First."

She stuck her nose in the air. "I'm going into second year. If you ask me, first year is the most substandard. I already knew half the spells they taught us, it was so insipid." She twirled a strand of red hair around her finger thoughtfully. "Are you clever?" she asked suddenly.

"Erm…" Greg scratched his head. He wasn't really sure of the meanings of some of the words Rose said, but she seemed to know what she was saying so he went along with it. "Well, I hated most lessons at primary school. Art is alright though."

Rose made a tutting noise. "Oh dear. The teachers won't be at all impressed."

Greg didn't know how to reply. Usually he would tell people like her to 'get lost and give me your chocolate', but now his tongue was tied. Perhaps he had finally found his match.

"Are you any good at Quidditch?" she inquired. Greg felt like he was getting interrogated, with one question after another.

"What's Quidditch?" he asked, furrowing his blonde eyebrows.

"You don't know what Quidditch is?" Rose looked unimpressed. "It's only the most momentous sport of the Wizarding World. Honestly, you must be living with your head in the clouds."

He turned away from her. Luckily the short lady finally came bustling back into the room. "Got your robes," she said, holding them up as proof.

"It says here he also needs a black plain pointed hat," said Katrina, reading off the list.

"Of course," said the shopkeeper. She pulled one out from behind the counter and placed it on Greg's head.

"I look ridiculous," he stated, staring at himself in the mirror with the silly hat perched on the top of his head as he pulled funny faces.

"You'll fit right in at Hogwarts with it on, though," his grandmother replied, patting his back. They paid and left the shop. Greg ignored Rose as she called after him, "Study hard, Gregory! You don't want to fail your classes and become the anomaly of the school, do you?"

Afterwards, Greg bought his school books, a cauldron, a wand (which he wouldn't let out of his sight), a glass phial, a telescope, brass scales and a deluxe scratching post from Magical Menagerie for Henry. He scanned over his check list and was finally satisfied he had everything.

"I'm ready to go, Dad!" he grinned. "Now how do we get there?"

"Term doesn't start till September 1st, son," laughed Dudley. "But you'll get there by… train, I think?" He looked at Harry for confirmation, who nodded.

The ride home wasn't half as dull as the ride there since everyone was discussing what they'd bought and seen. Greg stared out the car window at the twinkling stars which he was sure formed the shape of the hat he had bought at Madam Malkin's. He mentioned this to James who laughed and said it looked more like an upside down ice-cream. One thing was for sure; Greg couldn't wait till September the first when he could finally put all his new items to use.


	5. The Bait

**Chapter 5- The Bait  
><strong>  
>Gregory Dursley rose bright and early on September the 1st 2018, eager to get on with his magical education as soon as possible. Katrina was astonished so see him down in the kitchen so early, as he had never shown such interest in going to school before. In the past she'd had to tempt him out of bed with food.<p>

"Mum, mum, mum! I'm going to learn magic today!" he sang, racing into the kitchen and snatching a piece of bacon from the frying pan.

"I know, darling!" Katrina beamed as she stared at her son in adoration. "I'm so excited for you. You're going to excel there, I just know it."

"Of course I am," he said calmly, sitting down at the table. "I'll be the finest, most powerful wizard in my class. In the entire school, probably."

"That's my boy," came the hoarse morning voice of Dudley as he strode into the kitchen. "We Dursleys refuse to be anything but the best."

They all sat around the little kitchen table and tucked into their bacon and eggs.

"I can't wait to tell Bertie. He's going to be so jealous!" laughed Greg giddily with a mouth full of beans.

Dudley and Katrina exchanged a look. "Oh, darling, you mustn't tell any of your old school friends," said Katrina hastily.

"Why not?" Greg demanded.

"They're not allowed to know. They won't understand," she replied. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"So basically, I'm more special than they are so they can't know or else they'll throw a tantrum?"

"Er – sure. That's right, Greggikins," she said, dabbing at some sauce on the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

There was a knock on the door.

Katrina rose from her seat. "That'll be the milkman."

"Greg, go get the door," ordered Dudley without looking up from his newspaper.

"I don't want to."

Dudley looked up at his son sternly. Greg grumbled under his breath and stumbled out the room, making sure to slam the kitchen door extra hard so they knew just how angry he was, and over to the front door.

He was certainly not expecting to see his grandfather standing there, purple in the face with veins protruding out of his forehead.

"Granddad?" Greg took a hesitant step back; the last time he'd seen his grandfather, he had tried to 'shake the magic out of him'. Magic was the best thing that had ever happened to him so he was not willing to lose it so soon.

"Hello there, Greggers!" said Vernon in what he thought was a pleasant tone. "Had a nice breakfast, have you?" he added, noticing the bean sauce all around his grandson's mouth.

"Yeah, it was scrummy!"

"That's great, son. If you come to my house now, grandma will cook you all sorts of goodies, if you want!"

"Really?" Greg glanced behind him at the closed door of the kitchen. His parents wouldn't mind if he popped out for a little while, would they? He'd be back in time to get to Hogwarts.

Wincing with the effort, Vernon dropped to his knees to be level with Greg. "Oh, yes. There'll be cookies and gingerbread men and sweeties and every treat you could ever think of."

That sure was tempting. "We won't be gone for too long, will we?" he asked unsurely.

Vernon twiddled his greying moustache. "No, not long at all."

Greg bit his lip.

"Come on then, boy! No time like the present," Vernon said, clapping his hands together and briskly walking over to his silver car. Greg followed obediently; he really did fancy a chocolate cookie at that moment in time. He could just about catch his mother's voice calling, "Greg?" from the kitchen before Vernon swung the door shut and hurried over to his silver car, helping Greg get buckled into the front seat.

"Hey, I'm old enough to do my own seat belt!" he protested.

"Of course, sorry," Vernon grumbled, letting Greg fasten it himself.

As they drove out of the drive, Greg could see his mother in her silky pink dressing gown just stepping out of the house with his father close behind her. They both looked quite frantic.

"It's alright; I'm just going with grandpa to get some cookies! I'll be back soon, promise," he reassured them loudly, although he severely doubted they'd understood or heard him unless they were experts at lip-reading through windows.

"So, Gregory, would you like a hot chocolate to dip your gingerbread into? You love that, don't you?"

"Yep. It's almost as good as_ cookies _dipped in hot chocolate. I think I'll have a bit of both, actually. Can grandma bake a Victoria Sponge? I love those too," rambled Greg. His mouth was watering just thinking of all these glorious foods.

"Of course she can. Anything you want, dear boy, and we'll give it to you."

Greg grinned.

A short while later they pulled into number 4 Privet Drive and Greg was engulfed with the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies as he walked in a dream-like state into the kitchen where Petunia was clad in her purple apron adding the final touches.

"Cookies! Aw, yeah!" Greg breathed excitedly.

"Hello, Greg, dear," greeted Petunia, giving him a hug. "It's lovely to see you!"

His mouth was already too full of food to answer.

A few minutes later Greg had stuffed so much food into his body that he could hardly breathe. He was nearly sick a few times but was adamant to keep it in.

"Was it tasty, sweetums?" Petunia asked fondly.

"Your baking is… magical," Greg whispered.

Petunia smiled widely at him. "Such a lovely boy. You remind me so much of your father."

_Wait a second._Magical baking. Magic. Hogwarts. He had a train to catch! If he left now, he might even have time to watch some telly.

Abruptly, he stood up and walked out of the room. "I've got to go," he muttered.

"What do you mean? Where?" asked Petunia worriedly.

He ignored her and dashed into the living room where he knew a phone was kept on the shelf by the window. He quickly dialled his home number. There was no answer.

Petunia's footsteps were echoing outside the door. She was going to come in and stop him and make him miss his train to Hogwarts, Greg just knew it. He clutched the phone tighter in his clammy hands. He would NOT miss the train, and no one would stop him. Suddenly the lock clicked of its own accord, and Petunia was unable to enter the room.

"Magic!" Greg giggled with glee.

He quickly stopped laughing when he remembered the situation he was in and dialled his father's mobile number. _Lucky Dad forced me to learn his number till I could recite it from memory_, he thought gratefully.

"Let us in, son! Why'd you lock it?" Vernon called desperately, hammering on the door.

Dudley picked up on the first ring. "Greg? Greg, we're coming for you!"

"Dad!" he replied. "I'm at grandma's house. I don't want to miss the train to Hogwarts!"

"WHAT?" Vernon roared.

"We're nearly there, Greg! Don't worry, everything will be fine," came his father's reassuring voice. Greg breathed out a sigh of relief.

"You don't seriously want to become one of them freaks, do you, Gregory?" Vernon spat, seething in disgust. "You're too good to be one of them. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"I like magic, though, grandpa. Magic is cool!"

"It's not 'cool', it's ridiculous!" he snapped. "It's a stupid waste of time for a bunch of hoity-toity idiots!"

Greg pondered on why his grandfather hated magic so much. It was amazing, like nothing he'd ever experienced or seen before (well, apart from on TV)! Maybe he was just jealous, or feared it? How anyone could hate magic so passionately, though, Greg did not understand. To him, it was the best thing in the world - after food, of course - and he hadn't even learnt any yet.

"We're pulling into the driveway now, Greg. Don't worry, we're here now!" gushed out Dudley's voice in a panicky rush.

"Good. I'd hate to miss the train. Hurry up, Dad!"

Greg looked eagerly out of the window to see his parents sprinting towards the house, his father stuffing his mobile into his pocket. He waved at them but they didn't see him. He went to the door but found it was still locked, so he closed his eyes and wished it to be open but to no avail. Why couldn't magic work on demand?

"Give me back my son!" bellowed Dudley.

Greg tried picking the lock with his finger nails, breaking off the doorknob and shoving the door open with his shoulder, but none worked.

"Greggy? Where are you, dear?" he heard his mother squeak.

"I'm in here, Mum!" he called. "But I can't get out."

"Stand back, son." Dudley rammed at the door and, on the third attempt, it fell down and Greg could see four scandalized faces looking back at him.

"My poor baby," Katrina cried, throwing herself at her son. Dudley, however, stayed back and fixed his father with a steely glare.

"How dare you take my son from me," he snarled in a low, dangerous voice, poking Vernon forcefully on the chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I – he – he can't go off to that freak school, come on now, Dudley. You're not thinking right, son. Did I not teach you anything in your childhood? Do you really want your son to become one of _them_?"

Katrina, keeping her arms wrapped protectively around Greg, turned to glare at her father-in-law. "You, shut up. How _dare_ you say that? What do you think gives you the right to talk like that about my son, _in front_of him, no less? You disgust me."

"Katrina, please," Petunia moaned in a shrill voice. Tears were streaming down her face. Both women's faces had turned sickeningly pale.

"No, I've had enough. You're deluded if you think either of you are ever seeing my son again. Petunia – you actually went along with this sick plan? I'm shocked. Absolutely flabbergasted."

"Stay away from my family," Dudley warned definitively. "We're leaving now."

He put an arm around Greg and took Katrina's hand and, together, they left Privet Drive for the last time.

Petunia was sat on the doorstep, sobbing, while Vernon stood speechless behind her.

"So, are we going to Hogwarts now?" asked Greg innocently once they were safe in the car on their way home.

Dudley smiled warmly. "Yes, Greg. We certainly are."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I would love to hear what you thought of the chapter :)


	6. The Platform

**Chapter 6 – The Platform **

After grabbing Greg's trunk and Henry the toad, the Dursleys headed to the Vega household and were received quite differently than they were at Vernon and Petunia's. The clock was ticking and they barely had time to recapitulate the drama they'd just been through before they were being thrust into the fireplace by Mrs Vega.

"Remember to say the destination clearly, dear," she gently reminded. "You don't want to end up in some stranger's house, now, do you?"

"We'll meet you at the station!" added Mr Vega.

"Will it really work?" Greg asked, peering up the chimney stack. "A _fire _will take me away from grandma and grandpa's house?"

He removed his head from the fireplace and looked at his mother for confirmation. She nodded, smiling, seeming quite disbelieving of it herself. Greg's heart rate began to increase as he realised he was about to have his first real 'magical' experience, so to speak.

He reached into the pot on the mantelpiece and took a handful of the shimmering powder, surprised at how soft it felt between his fingertips, and threw it into the flames. It reacted at once with a low grumble, turning a startling shade of emerald green as he cautiously stepped into it.

"Fairview House!" he yelled, loud enough for the whole street to hear. Then he was spinning in a whirring, dizzying sensation. Although it was scary, he found it quite enjoyable and compared it to the bumpy, spiralling slide at the fairground, but a slightly darker, fleeting and more uncomfortable version of it.

"I love magic," he managed to whisper into the darkness, ignoring the twisting in his stomach.

The Potters lived in a quaint but cosy cottage on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow with plenty of space for the kids to run around but close enough for them to pay respects to their late grandparents if they ever wished to. But when he stepped out of their fireplace, Greg was not welcomed with a picture-perfect family ready to set off for school. The homey living room was vacant, bar a black cat snoozing on the rug in front of him. At least, it _had_been snoozing, but Greg's unforeseen entrance had caused it to crack open an eyelid in irritation.

He didn't have much time to wander around as a few seconds later his father appeared, closely followed by his mother. But before _they _could do anything, their attention was caught by some not-so-dulcet tones travelling back and forth through the house.

"JAMES! I told you to pack your stuff up DAYS ago! Must you _always _leave it till the last minute? Do you do it on purpose? Do you get some kick out of riling me up –"

"Chill, mum. It only takes a few minutes –"

"Why can't you be more like your brother? He's been ready to go for ages; we all have –"

"Ugh, not the Albus-is-the-perfect-angel speech again –"

"HARRY! Where are you? Harry, tell your son to do as he's told."

"James, do what your mother tells you."

"I could have been packed up already in the time she's taken to yell at me –"

Ten-year-old Lily appeared in the doorway to the living room having heard the commotion by the fireplace, her red eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the bewildered-looking Dursleys coated in dust.

"Um, mum?" she called up the stairs, twirling the ends of her long hair around her finger. "We have visitors."

Without a second's pause, Ginny Potter hurried down the stairs with her husband close behind her and greeted their guests.

Once they were all settled in Harry's car, Dudley began recounting their morning.

"What?" cried Harry, almost losing control of the steering wheel as he was told about the abduction. "He can't do that! Moving away to live in the middle of the sea is one thing, but stealing a child from their parents?"

"Ludicrous man!" Ginny added, shaking her head.

"What a bad, bad man!" Lily chirped from somewhere towards the back of the car, reminded of the villains in stories she'd been told.

In no time they reached central London (mostly thanks to the magical alterations to Harry's car, enabling them to weave through the traffic with ease). Greg was familiar with King's Cross station as he had spent multiple Christmases catching the busy trains to his grandparents' house; however, never before had he run into a solid wall to reach a platform. He stood between his parents, gawking at his cousins sauntering into the stone barrier with ease, passing straight through it without leaving a single scratch.

Harry advised Greg to "take it at a run", gave him a wink, and passed through the barrier with Lily, leaving Greg alone with his non-magical parents. Greg started to notice all the passing grown-ups giving him weird looks. Wasn't a boy allowed to have a pet toad anymore?

His mother squeezed his shoulder. That was all the motivation he needed. Gripping tightly onto his trolley, he started jogging towards the wall, closely followed by his parents, panting heavily. He was so sure there was going to be a collision – the logical part of his brain was taking over, preparing himself for injury. But he had seen James and Albus pass through only a minute before! If he did end up hurting (and making a fool of) himself, he'd better be compensated with a whole lot of sweets… especially Jelly Slugs…

The first thing he noticed when he entered Platform 9 ¾ was how animated it was. The platform was, if possible, even more hectic than Diagon Alley, with countless families scurrying about amidst the billowing steam, supplemented by the chatter and hoots and miaows and groans of the trolleys being sped around.

High above him was a scarlet sign reading '_Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock_', confirming that it did indeed exist and was not simply a fabrication of his imagination, and even more impressive was the startlingly scarlet steam engine standing proudly before him.

"Wow," he breathed.

After making sure the Dursleys got through alright, Harry pulled his sons over to the side.

"You two look after Greg, alright?" he said, watching them carefully with a hint of warning in his voice. "You must remember how scary your first weeks were. I want to hear that you helped him settle in and get his bearings."

Albus nodded once. James swung an arm lazily around his younger brother's shoulders and added, "of course, father. We'll make old Greg feel right at home."

"Glad to hear it," Harry replied, hugging them both tightly. "Have a great year, boys. Stay out of trouble, and all that."

Grinning, they turned away to say good-bye to their mother, who was giving Lily the annual 'You're Too Young to Go to Hogwarts' speech. Harry went over to his cousin, and suddenly realised how surreal it all was, standing beside Dudley Dursley and his son on platform 9 ¾. If you'd told him this would happen when he was twelve years old, he'd never have believed you.

"Ready to see Greg off?" Harry asked conversationally.

Dudley had a good think about this. "No," he answered honestly.

"It's always hardest with the first one."

"Listen, Harry," Dudley began, gathering enough of Harry's attention for him to turn and look at him, "I want to say thank you for all you've done for my family. I don't know where we'd be without you, helping us with Greg and all. It was very… kind of you."

This was not the first time in Harry's life that his cousin had caught him completely by surprise.

"Oh… you're welcome. What are families for?"

Dudley smiled - a real smile that brightened his features - before turning to his son who was tugging insistently on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Is Slytherin the house for bad guys, Dad?"

Dudley glanced over at Harry, looking unsure. "What makes you say that, Greg?"

"I just overheard some boys talking about it. They said they'd rather be a Squib than be put in Slytherin. Dad, what's a Squib?"

"Oh, don't worry about being put in Slytherin, Greg," James cut in as he joined them. There was a dangerous twinkle of laughter in his eyes. "It's Hufflepuff you really ought to be concerned about."

"James!" Ginny scolded him, flicking him on the side of the head. "Don't listen to him, Greg, you should be proud of whatever house you get put in."

Greg wasn't so sure. The name 'Hufflepuff' did sound a bit silly- it sounded like the name of a toy belonging to one of the girls in his old primary school class.

A tall red-haired man came striding up to them, shadowed by an equally tall brunette lady with a pointy nose and two auburn-haired girls.

"Harry! Ginny! Lovely to see you," he said, and then seemed to notice the Dursleys. "Oh, hello."

Harry introduced them. "This is Percy and Audrey Weasley. Percy and Audrey, meet Dudley and Katrina Dursley."

"Nice to meet you," Percy said, shaking their hands; Audrey did the same. "I'm Ginny's brother."

"This is Molly," Audrey gestured to the tallest girl who, at first glance, Greg mistakenly thought was a raccoon due to her excessive amounts of make-up around her eyes, "and this is Lucy. This will be her first year at Hogwarts." A girl with her hair in bunches stepped out from behind her father and offered Greg a small smile. He just stared stupidly back at her.

"It's Gregory's first year too!" Katrina burst, resting her hands on her son's shoulders. "Perhaps they can be friends; he doesn't know anyone apart from the Potters."

Harry and Dudley were politely listening to Percy go on about the ministry when Molly suddenly cried, "Look, the train's going to leave any minute now and I need to find a compartment with my friends. Can I leave now?"

_What a rude girl_, Greg thought. _Maybe I don't want to be friends with her sister after all.  
><em>  
>There was a shocked silence, and then: "Of course- you'd all better get going. Good luck, Gregory! Have a nice year, Albus, James!" Audrey then proceeded to pull her daughters away and shove them onto the train.<p>

Greg's excitement (and heart rate) increased; it was nearly time to go to Hogwarts!

His father crouched down in front of him, his mother looking the other way to give them some privacy.

Dudley smiled at his mini look-alike. "This is it, Gregs. You're going to Hogwarts, to learn magic."

"I know." Greg beamed up at his father.

"I only wish that it wasn't a boarding school so I'd still get to see you every day, but you can't have everything." He breathed out heavily. "You make the most of this, alright, son? You're going to have an incredible time. And remember, if any one gives you trouble, let them know you're not one to be messed with."

In truth, Dudley was scared. His son was about to be swept away from him into a world he could hardly even begin to understand. Would he be safe? Would he be happy?

A shrill whistle sounded.

"It's time to go," Greg whispered, suddenly apprehensive about leaving his parents behind.

Dudley stood up and patted his son's back. "I love you, Greg."

"Love you too, Dad," he replied. "Love you, Mum!"

And then Greg was hugging his parents and grandparents and Harry and Ginny and before he knew it, he was stepping onto the gleaming Hogwarts Express, heart thrashing around inside of him.

As soon as he was in the train he dashed to the nearest window and located his family, waving heartily at him. He mirrored them as they got smaller and smaller until they were like ants in the distance. He pressed his hand against the cool window.

"C'mon then, Greg," Albus said with a sigh from behind, making Greg jump a foot in the air. "Let's find a compartment."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** We'll find out what house Greg is sorted into next chapter! Eeek. Any guesses? :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I really enjoyed writing it!


	7. The Sorting

Albus led the way down the train. Craning his short neck, Greg curiously peeked into the compartment windows as they walked passed them, getting his first look at his new schoolmates.

"Here," Albus muttered, holding the door open for Greg to go through. There were already two people in the compartment; he recognised the red-headed girl with a teetering ball of pink fluff on her shoulder, but he had no idea who the boy sitting opposite her was. "Guys, this is Greg Dursley," Albus introduced, plopping himself down on a seat. "He's my, er, dad's cousin's son - a first year. Greg, this is my cousin Rose and my friend Scorpius."

Greg was met with smiles. Rose said, "Delightful to see you again, Gregory."

"You've met before?" the blonde boy named Scorpius asked Rose, who nodded.

"We were both getting our robes fitted at Madam Malkin's," she explained before turning to scrutinise Greg. "Did you read up on all your subjects as I advised you to, Gregory?"

Greg shook his head.

"And why not?" she asked sternly, arching one eyebrow in a way that reminded Greg of his old English teacher.

"Er, because I couldn't be bothered," he replied truthfully with a shrug of his shoulders. "Reading is boring."

Rose inhaled sharply; Scorpius raised his eyebrows. Al, observing his friends' reactions, sniggered behind his fingers.

"_Boring_?" Rose choked, clutching at her heart and leaning forward a little in her seat. "Reading is_magnificent_! There is no greater pleasure than the feel of a book between one's fingers and being transported into an entirely new world! It's magic in itself! Only ignorant, uneducated fools would say otherwise."

"No," Greg disagreed, "it's boring. TV is better."

A strange noise erupted from the back of Rose's throat.

"Come on now, Rose," Albus said, looking between them anxiously upon noticing the ever growing scarlet in his cousin's cheeks. "Everyone's entitled to their own opinions, aren't they?"

Squeezing her eyes closed, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils. "Of course," she breathed out. "Yes. You're quite right. Even if their opinions are _incredibly _absurd…"

"So, Greg," Scorpius cut in, "that's a cool toad you've got there. What's his name?"

"Henry," Greg answered proudly, patting the toad's head.

"Cool," Scorpius replied, reaching out to stroke its slimy skin.

Suddenly Greg felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck – he turned his head a fraction of an inch and realised they were being watched. A huddle of girls was crowded round the carriage window, gazing through at them in awe. One girl even had her cheek pressed up against the glass for a better view. Greg sat a little straighter.

The girl who was pressed against the window finally decided to take the plunge and opened it, and said in the voice of a very starstruck preteen, "Oh, h-hello there." Greg was about to respond when the girl quickly hurried on: "You're really Harry Potter's son, aren't you?"

Greg furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Albus responded jadedly. "Yeah, I am."

"He's really Harry Potter's son!" she squealed, turning round to share excited looks with her friends.

Greg's spirit deflated. He sunk further down into his seat and resolved to remain quiet for the rest of journey. What was so great about the Potters? What did _they_ have that he didn't?

"Ugh, first years," Albus mumbled miserably once his newly-found fan club had departed. "Will I seriously have to put up with this every single year? I thought last year was bad enough."

"Rather you than me, mate," said Scorpius, patting him on the shoulder.

"What house do you want to be in, Gregory?" Rose asked, peering at him over her book, apparently over her grudge about his lack of reading.

"No idea," he answered. "Hopefully not Hufflepuff. They sound a bit… eh."

Rose nodded vehemently. "I know what you mean. Some of them are a bit slow, and I suppose they aren't exactly the most exciting of houses. For the most part, however, the members are extremely amiable, in my humble opinion."

When Greg didn't reply, she went on: "I'm a Ravenclaw, naturally. I'm not so sure you'd be suited to my house, in all honesty. Perhaps Gryffindor, like Albus?" She jerked her head in Albus's direction. Greg shrugged, apathetic. Rose, realising they weren't going to get any further, turned away.

They began discussing their summer holidays and Greg swiftly grew bored. An endless stream of green fields and emerald hills flew by and, combined with the relentless jolting of the carriage, it was making him feel a bit woozy. He decided to rest his eyes for a bit, and was engulfed with sleep in an instant.

When he opened them again, it was pitch black outside the window and everyone was dressed in their black school robes. Sweet wrappers were scattered everywhere.

"Greg? You awake?" Albus asked. "The food trolley came while you were asleep, but you wouldn't wake up, so I saved you a Chocolate Frog."

He chucked it over to Greg, who shredded it open and stuffed it in his mouth without giving it a chance to leap out of his greedy clutches. He jammed the card – Harry Potter – into his pocket, and once it clicked he immediately took it out again.

"_Harry Potter_?" he read with a crease between his eyebrows. "Albus, what's your dad doing on this card?"

"He's kind of famous," Albus replied fleetingly, looking half disturbed and half impressed at how Greg had managed to swallow a whole Chocolate Frog in one go. "I'll tell you another time. Right now, though, you'd better go change into your robes. We'll be there soon."

Harry? Famous? Greg couldn't - didn't - believe it. He was just Harry.

Once they got off the train, Albus explained that he'd be getting a carriage to school and Greg would be taking a boat.

"A boat?" Greg repeated nervously. The last time he was on a boat he had vomited all over his mother's new shoes. "Are you sure?"

"Firs'-years over here!" bellowed a deep voice.

Albus smiled and gave Greg a shove in the voice's direction; he bumped into a very tall boy who gave him a dirty look. Greg stuck his tongue out. "Trust me. Go over to Hagrid; he'll help you. Good luck with the sorting, Greg! Hope you're a Gryffindor!"

"Firs'-years!" the voice said again. Greg looked towards the source and found himself staring at a giant of a man, at least three times his own height and several times as wide.

"Cool," Greg whispered to himself, grinning.

He caught James's eye on the way to the giant man. "Remember, Greg – not Hufflepuff!"

"Not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff," Greg muttered to himself as he clambered onto a boat. They were really quite small, so he took up the space of two people due to his size. In front of him was Lucy Weasley, the girl in bunches he'd met before getting on the train, and another girl he didn't recognise. They were both staring ahead of them with pure wonder etched on their faces.

Greg forgot all about the Hogwarts houses, however, when the boats started moving (Hagrid had yelled "FORWARD" and Greg almost fell out of his boat with surprise). Generally, Greg wasn't one to appreciate scenic views, but Hogwarts literally took his breath away. It loomed dauntingly above him, reminding him of the old gothic castles he'd seen on the telly. Completely surreal.

_This is a school?_ he wondered, stunned.

"It's even better than how my sister described it," Lucy whispered to the girl next to her.

"It's beautiful," the girl agreed breathlessly.

Greg agreed inwardly, but the bitter wind was starting to sting his cheeks and so he was glad to finally crawl out of the boats and onto the dry rocks leading up to the castle. Hagrid led the first years over to where a small elderly wizard stood waiting for them.

_Are all the adults here strange sizes?_ Greg wondered. _Will _I_ grow up - or down - to be a strange size?_

The little man escorted them into a poky room off to the side of the Entrance Hall. Beaming at each and every one of them, he began, "Hello there! Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm Professor Flitwick, your Deputy Headmaster."

He went on to explain about each of the four houses, and told them how the Sorting Ceremony would be commencing shortly.

"I'll return in a few minutes," he said, smiling kindly. "In the meantime, I'd advise you to prepare yourselves for the Sorting."

While they waited, Greg let his eyes roam over the hundreds of portraits cluttered on the stone walls above them, and – _holy cow _– he swore they were moving. To him, they looked like a hundred television screens on one wall. Hogwarts was beginning to look very promising indeed.

That was, until he overheard the anxious whispers swarming around him.

"My brother said we have to battle with a basilisk."

"Are you sure? I was told we get interviewed by a house-elf."

"Maybe we have to do both?"

"Don't be stupid," Greg scoffed, turning to glower at Lucy and her friend, but he couldn't help it - his eyes had widened in alarm. "They wouldn't make us battle anything… would they?"

He was not met with an answer, however, because at that moment Professor Flitwick returned; the wooden doors to the Great Hall swung open and the first years were ushered inside.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of nervous anticipation for Greg and his fellow classmates. His face felt hot and sweaty and an uncomfortable knot of nervous anticipation grew in his stomach, made worse by the hundreds of pairs of eyes following his every move. His nerves were somewhat quashed when a pointed black hat appeared, rather than some huge venomous monster, and Greg was very impressed by the fact that it could talk.

A talking hat? He could deal with that.

"Dursley, Gregory," Professor Flitwick called, startling him out of his thoughts.

Gulping down the lump in his throat, Greg shuffled onto the little wooden stool, suddenly feeling like his insides were being compressed by his tight robes. He tried to ignore the masses of people in front of him as he placed the raggedy hat on his head. He wondered if everyone else could hear his heart pounding as loudly as he could.

There was a few seconds pause, and then Greg could hear a quiet voice speaking into his ear.

"Hmm, this is rather interesting," the voice mused. "An adequate mind, I see, and plenty of drive in there somewhere."

"Just put me in the_ best _house," Greg whispered out loud.

"Yes, and a desire for power, too; well, this is very interesting indeed. A lot of potential... Not a particularly hard choice – better be –" Greg scrunched up his face, bracing himself for the answer: "SLYTHERIN!"

As a cheer erupted from the Slytherin table, Greg finally released the long breath he'd been holding. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, now that he knew he was definitely not a Hufflepuff. The thought of him being one now was laughable. Grinning widely to himself, he ambled over to the table on the very left of the hall (but had to return to the front again when someone kindly yelled out that the Sorting Hat was still on his head) and was greeted by a prefect. On the way he caught James Potter's eye, who gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Greg smiled back.

"Welcome to Slytherin! Gregory, is it? It's great to have you join the ranks!"

"I'm just glad I'm not in Hufflepuff," he told the prefect solemnly.

She gave a short bout of laughter. "Yes, well I think we all are." Greg noticed her lean sideways to whisper into the ear of a friend: "I love first years," she said, smirking.

Greg was taken aback to find a ghost sitting a few people down from him, covered in silver blood. It was bizarre to be able to see _through_ a person. It would certainly take a while for him to get used to the new adaptions in his life.

The food, however, was something he would get used to very quickly; the Start-of-Term Feast was the highlight of Greg's day. Of his term, even. He couldn't have conjured up a larger amount of food in his dizziest daydreams (he did, however, notice the absence of sugar, sweets and all things Honeydukes, but supposed the assortment of cakes and tarts made up for it). Although it had nothing on fizzy pop, even the pumpkin juice tasted quite nice.

Twenty minutes later he was full to the brim and ready for bed, when he realised he had no idea where 'bed' would be. Luckily he was saved from worrying for too long, because the prefect that had acknowledged him earlier beckoned first years over to her, and she led them out of the Great Hall together. Fortunately for Greg, the trek to their beds did not require a profuse amount of stair-climbing, but still left him gasping for breath; he dreaded the day he would have to make it up to the tallest towers, and longed for lessons on the ground floor.

She came to a halt in a cul-de-sac and turned to speak to the first years. "Right, so I know you're all probably dying to go to bed right now, but before that I think there are a few things you should know about Slytherin: we're widely respected in this school. The most respected, I'd argue. We are not evil and we do not hold hands chanting Voldemort's name, but we do hold a certain degree of power over the other students, and if I were you I wouldn't let that power go to waste. Merlin himself was a Slytherin, did you know? There's something great about every one of you, I can already tell.

"Oh, and the password changes every two weeks, so you'd do well to keep up with it; the dungeons can get really cold, especially at night. Well, I think that's about everything. And now, for the common room!"

She grinned at them, stated the password clearly, and entered an opening in the stone wall, gesturing for them to follow.

Greg's first impression was how fancy it looked. The room was dark and seemed to be bathed in green light. An ornate fireplace was the focal point of the room, where a flickering fire casted shadows on the surrounding plush black and dark green leather sofas. It was a very grand room, Greg thought. Just to his taste.

A little staircase off to the side led Greg down to his new dormitory. A few boys were already in there.

"This room is tiny!" Greg spluttered as he took in the small circular room. "And – what's this – no TV? They must've forgotten it. One of you should tell the teachers and they'll get us one."

The other boys exchanged looks that Greg didn't like at all. "There aren't any TVs at Hogwarts," the tallest of the boys answered. "I don't think they work here. Anyway, I doubt we'll have much time to watch it, what with all the work we'll get. My brother said we even have to do homework at _weekends._"

Greg turned to glare at the boy. "But they're all over the walls; hundreds of them, all with little moving people. Magic TVs. I saw them."

"No," spoke another boy slowly, as if Greg was foreign. "You're thinking of the portraits. You know, drawings of people. Sure, the person inside might move around a bit, but it's just the one scene. Permanent. Never changes."

Greg's heart sunk.

"Of course I knew that, I'm not stupid," Greg retorted, turning away from the boy to dig his pyjamas out of his trunk.

He didn't think much of his new roommates. He didn't think much of the lack of televisions, either.

Even so, Greg's last conscious thought before he fell asleep that night were that, maybe, magic and Hogwarts and _being there _was worth more than television.

Plus, the food was pretty good, and to him, that was all that truly mattered.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** (No offence to Hufflepuffs! I love them really!)

So I was gonna go to great lengths to develop Greg's character and he'd realise what a little twerp he could be but I just don't have the inspiration nor motivation to do that unfortunately. And I hate seeing this story incomplete with no update for so long, and I promised myself I'd never ever abandon a story… so I'm gonna take the easy route out and just end it here.

But he made it to Hogwarts... unscathed! Yeah! Now he can prove to that nasty Grandpa Vernon what a great wizard he'll make ;)

Thank you for reading! A review would be much appreciated!


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